Zara's cheeks grew crimson and her voice became sharper. "We are two women talking together," she said decisively. "Therefore, it is useless for us to skirt about the bush as we would do with men. Mr. Hench never loved me; he had no conception of love when he proposed, and I told him so. Can't you understand how a lonely man must wish for a home and a comrade, so that he may have some centre in life? I used those very words to him. Mr. Bracken gives me that true love which is more than admiration, which was all Mr. Hench had to offer. He could not give me his heart because he did not know that he possessed one. Since coming here he has made the discovery that he has a heart and he has given it to you."
"Have you seen him; did he tell you so?"
It took Zara a moment or so to quell her rising anger, and she felt inclined to shake this silly little girl who was not to be convinced by common-sense explanations. "I have not seen Mr. Hench, nor if you wish it will I see him."
"Oh, it's nothing to me," said Gwen with an air of finality.
"Then it ought to be. Mr. Vane told me what Mr. Hench told him."
"What is that?"
"You know quite well," retorted Zara tartly. "It is that Mr. Hench loves you better than you deserve."
"How can you tell what I deserve?"
"I am only going by what I see of you now," said the dancer patiently. "You really love Mr. Hench, and you are fighting against your feelings, because you believe that he loves me, which is not the case. As you can see that I am speaking the truth, it is unworthy of you to speak as you do. Therefore, I say that Mr. Hench loves you better than you deserve. I don't know," cried Zara, becoming exasperated, "why you force me to make so unnecessary an explanation, as you are quite aware of what I mean."
Gwen was so impressed by the dancer's earnest speech that she became much more reasonable. "I am a pig, I know," she murmured rather inelegantly. "But it isn't pleasant to love a man and then to hear from his own lips that he proposed to another woman."